


All I Could Do Was Cry

by HobbitFeels



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, BotFA AU, Correspondence Fic, Depressed Thorin, Ficlet, M/M, Pining, Thorin is ashamed, Thorin's got Bilbo drinkin', fears of suicide, no one dies at the battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobbitFeels/pseuds/HobbitFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin comes to his senses after the battle and has a hard time living with what he has done to Bilbo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thorin's Depression

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, PJ Movieverse up through UEJ, Bookverse afterwards, started prior to the DoS film and finished prior to the BotFA film.

As the gold lust left him and reality began to sink in, Thorin realized the gravity of what he had done. He had sent Bilbo away. The betrayal he felt over the Arkenstone had been magnified--not only due to his treasure madness, but also because of his deep feelings for the hobbit. He was only just coming to grips with how fiercely he loved Bilbo...now that it was too late. He had been in denial for months. It seemed a curious thing to him: it was easier to avoid his feelings while he could still keep watch over Bilbo. With his chance taken away from him to act upon his impulses, he was haunted by them. He was never getting another chance. Not now. 

Fili and Kili survived but only barely. He had Bilbo to thank for that as well. If the hobbit had not bravely gambled their relationship to form alliances, all would have likely been lost. Thorin was so willing to risk it all and for what? A larger share of the gold? The Arkenstone? A legacy? What good is any of that if those dearest to him would have fallen? If he had fallen? He laughed bitterly. He was the King of Fools. He was lucky that all rational beings did not abandon him after how he behaved. He knew he would carry the guilt of Fili and Kili's subsequent scars and limps with him the rest of his days.

Bilbo did not have the pleasure of knowing he was the Hero Of Erebor. He left immediately after the battle. Even after what he was put through, Bilbo still respected Thorin enough to keep to his command. Those who knew what Bilbo Baggins did were only too pleased to tell his story and it spread like a wildfire. Bilbo had met a dragon and defied a king to save people who were not even his kind--then fought courageously in the subsequent battle! That is to say nothing of the little Shireling creating alliances with Men and Elves to help the Dwarves in spite of themselves. Songs were already being written about him. It deepened Thorin's shame to hear the tales of Bilbo risking all for his friends but Thorin did not begrudge Bilbo any of this. He was filled with too much regret and sorrow to hold any praise against Bilbo. Bilbo deserved it all and Thorin knew it. 

Thorin was sick of the sight of himself. He had all the mirrors in his chambers covered. He wept alone each night with shame at what he had done but showed little emotion to anyone else. He could barely meet the eye of any of the former Company. He occupied all his time with plans and negotiations to rebuild Erebor. He tried his hardest to keep his mind busy and off twinkling eyes resting under sandy curls. He worked to exhaustion every day in the hopes that he would not dream. There was nothing pleasant to come from dreams for him, not any longer. They either reminded him of what he could have had or of what he had done. After a particularly nasty nightmare, he sent for word from Gandalf to confirm that Bilbo had made it home safely. Indeed he did, the wizard had eventually written. He continued on to write that Thorin had much for which to atone before he even had the right to say Bilbo's name aloud. 

Thorin maintained but merely survived, day by excruciating day. It seemed almost funny to him now how badly he had wanted to win back the mountain and begin this new life. "Life," he thought. "What a joke." This _existence_. Life meant nothing without his honor. It meant nothing without his pride. It meant nothing without his hobbit. 

Thorin approached his largest mirror in front of his dressing table and slowly slid off the sheet that covered it. He looked at himself for the first time in weeks. He was thinner. He had great, dark rings under his eyes. He thought he looked haunted...and he was. He wanted to smash his reflection, unwilling to bear looking himself in the eye. Taking a scissor blade from the table top, he raised it to his neck. 

" _So it has come to this_ ," Thorin thought with tears in his eyes. " _There is nothing more I can do_." 

He grabbed a large lock of hair and cut it close to the scalp. A tear spilled over. He gathered another section and cut it as well. And another. And another still. He cut all his hair short while he sobbed for forgiveness for the wrongs he had committed. He then balled himself up on his bed and continued to weep to exhaustion.

*****

Some weeks later, Bilbo Baggins answered the door to a package bearing the insignia of the King Of Erebor. He felt his heart fall through the earth and come back around again. He sat the package on his dining table and just stared at it for a quarter hour. He opened it with trembling fingers. There--laid out smooth and soft--was a large, thick bundle of black and grey hair. It contained a braid with a very familiar and unmistakable bead. Bilbo's eyes filled with tears as he opened the accompanying letter. He read the first three words ("Please forgive me") and clutched the letter to his chest. All he could do was cry.


	2. Thorin's Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Thorin's letter said

_“Bilbo,_

_Please forgive me for my foolishness, my pride, and my cruelty. I was wrong in every way a body could be wrong. I was too proud to admit it and too angry at myself to bear it. Never seeing you again would be exactly what I deserved. I cannot even look in the mirror anymore, truth be told._

_I should have stopped you, rescinded my order for your dismissal, and fallen upon my knees to beg for your forgiveness. Instead, I threw my weight around like a giant coward who hoped his bluster would hide the truth. I hid it too well._

_Your friends made sure you were remembered appropriately, no thanks to me. Everyone in the mountain knows you as the Hero Of Erebor and sing songs written in your honor. It only adds to my shame and my pain._

_I, too, was your friend once. Like a milksop, I never had the courage to tell you my heart wanted more. I called you mine in secret. I imagined perhaps--one day when the mountain was settled--I would open myself to you. It all went terribly wrong. The magnitude of my feelings only seemed to compound how terrible things became._

_I hurt you when I should have loved you. I put violent hands on you when my touches should have been tender. I nearly killed you when I should have been devising a way to ask you to share your life with me. I sent you away when all I wanted was for you to stay with me._

_As I have lost you and my dignity, there is nothing left. I am a husk: a dishonored shell, functioning in body but unable to live. Shamed, I owe you retribution as the one I have harmed. I have shorn myself and present you with the most physical representation of my dwarvish pride--my locks--to do with as you see fit. Perhaps you would display them over your mantle as a trophy, or throw them into the very fire itself to incinerate me in effigy. I would deserve it._

_To tell you I am sorry is the least of it. It seems too small a phrase for this enormous regret that pounds in my chest in place of my heart._

_I never told you that I loved you. It is now too late to tell you that I love you still._

_Thorin, Son of Thráin_  
 _Disgraced King Under The Mountain”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to continue this, but it might be slowly. I'm on a correspondence fic kick lately, so starting with Thorin's letter seemed logical. Bilbo will, of course, write him back in Chapter 3.


	3. Bilbo's Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finishes Thorin's message and has some decisions to make.

Bilbo cried a bowlful of tears before he had even read past the first three words of Thorin’s letter. Once he had calmed himself enough to continue, he was stunned to read of Thorin’s feelings for him. How Bilbo's heart was able to leap so when it was broken was a mystery beyond his ken. 

Thorin’s regret at the end seemed ominous. Bilbo’s eyes flicked to the bundle of Thorin’s once-proud hair sitting on his simple tabletop. 

_It is now too late to tell you that I love you still._

Bilbo’s chest seized with an icy fear. Thorin’s tone and the shearing of his locks made it seem as though the dwarf had planned on ending himself. He had to know if Thorin was alive. It was abruptly more important than breathing his own air. 

Bilbo jumped from his chair and ran about his home, frantically packing. He paused in the middle of dumping out his memory chest where he kept his sword and battle-shirt. He did not know how to actually _get_ to Erebor and he certainly did not think he could manage to arrive there alive by himself. He sat down with a disappointed thud. He could send for an escort, but that would take just as long as sending a letter to Erebor itself. In fact, he could probably get a letter to Erebor and back in the time it would take him to scrabble someone to help him get there. 

Bilbo breathed deeply and willed his Baggins side to help him come up with a solution. He was torn between making tea and raiding his spirits for the strongest thing he could find to calm his nerves. In the end, tea won out, but only because he needed his wits sharp. He stroked Thorin’s hair as he thought. Had it always been this soft?

He played through all his scenarios and kept coming back to his least favorite: writing Thorin back and playing the torturous game of waiting. Nothing else would be as quick (in a manner of speaking) or as safe. Bilbo would have gladly sacrificed a bit of safety for speed, but dying himself without knowing Thorin still lived seemed counter-productive at best.

Now decided, Bilbo popped open a bottle of wine and downed two glasses right away to loosen his pen. If Thorin was so tortured by the past and yet lived, Bilbo wanted to do more than simply find out he was alive. There were too many hurts to hope anything would come of it, but Bilbo decided halfway through the bottle that Thorin needed to know the truth about him.

_Thorin,_

_Your letter alarmed me more than anything has since after the battle, back when no one could tell me how you fared. I feared more for your life that day than my own. I fear for it again. I pray that you are still alive to read these words and that you came to no further harm at your hand than cutting your hair._

_Oh, your glorious hair! How could you suppose I would burn it? I scarcely believed you would have done such a thing to yourself but I hold the evidence in my hands. My heart breaks for the pain you must have felt to bring you to that end, but it is prized by me now that I have it. I shall keep it carefully--not on display on my mantle as a trophy to your claimed disgrace, but on my nightstand where it will be something that connects me intimately to you in my loneliness._

_I forgave you long ago, perhaps before I even left the mountain. It was awful when you thought I betrayed you but I would do it all again. Everything I did--the Arkenstone, sneaking off to Bard’s camp, making the deal, joining the fight--was to save the ones I loved. As long as you, Fili, Kili, and the rest lived, everything I endured was worth it._

_I have less left to lose than yourself, as I do not have a kingdom to occupy my time. Your confession calls for mine. Somewhere along our road, I fell in love with you. I, too, thought to keep my feelings to myself until the quest had ended. I did not want to distract you or be rebuffed for requesting your love before you were able to give it. By the time the mountain was reclaimed and the journey had truly ended, there was no longer any chance for me. I left Erebor with a broken heart, most of which was my own fault for stealing from the one I loved most._

_I miss you, Thorin. I’ve missed you every single day, frequently to the point of tears. Somehow, like a dream, I am holding your precious hair and your letter--a letter which fills me with quivering hope and trembling fear. Is it truly possible that you love me the way that I love you? However, you wrote with such finality. Are you alive or dead?_

_Is it honestly too late?_

_Hopefully,  
Bilbo”_

Bilbo struck out into town to find someone to start the letter on its journey as soon as possible. He did not arrive back at Bag End until well after dark. Having done as much as he could, he uncorked a bottle of his strongest spirits and made his best effort to drink away his fear and uncertainty.


	4. Bilbo's Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short denouement.

Bilbo sat by his fire on an afternoon darkened to greyish blue by heavy clouds, listening to the rain pour. He'd added a little nip of something to his tea to boost its warming effects. It had seemed an age since his letter left the Shire and the days crawled by as he waited anxiously for word. He had imagined dozens of ways the return letter could read--not only the worst possible news, but also things for which he barely dared hope. With each week that passed, the doubt within him grew. A simple "I'm alive" would have been disappointing, true, but it would have gone a long way in soothing Bilbo's poor, frazzled nerves. 

Bilbo's thoughts for the day were interrupted by a knocking at his door. He hoped it was not an emergency that would require him to head out into the chill and the wet. He pulled open the door and stood _stunned_. 

Thorin Oakenshield was on his doorstep.

Soaked, bedraggled, and with hair only the length of his jaw, he greeted Bilbo with the sweetest smile the hobbit had ever seen. His brows were slightly raised in open, soft expression and his eyes were more lovely than Bilbo's memory. 

Thorin took a step inward. Glancing at the door, he said, "I found it the first try this time."  
"Thorin," Bilbo breathed, his eyes already starting to dampen. 

Thorin dug into his clothes, past his fur and through his layers, carefully pulling out a (dry) paper that had obviously been many times folded and undone.

"I received your letter," Thorin said, sounding a little unsure. One corner of his mouth shyly quirked upward. "I think I must have read it two hundred times."  
Bilbo stepped forward and stroked Thorin's cheek with a trembling hand, unable to help himself. Thorin gently placed his own hand atop it.

Closing his eyes, Thorin recited from memory: "'I miss you, Thorin. I’ve missed you every single day, frequently to the point of tears. Somehow, like a dream, I am holding your precious hair and your letter--a letter which fills me with quivering hope and trembling fear. Is it truly possible that you love me the way that I love you? Is it honestly too late?'"

Bilbo felt the embarrassment spread across his cheeks at hearing his words coming back to him, albeit in a tender tone. He moved to pull his hand from Thorin's face but the king held him firm. Thorin opened his eyes to gaze into Bilbo's. 

"I am alive, though I am far from whole. I pray you might remedy that. It is not too late for you, Bilbo. Please answer, is it too late for me?" Thorin asked.  
Bilbo subtly shook his head, as though his mind was detached from his body.  
"Too late for what?" he asked, voice barely audible. 

Thorin closed the distance between them, bringing their bodies to touching. He clutched both of Bilbo's hands to his chest. 

He whispered in reply, "To love you."

Going from shy to brazen in an instant, Bilbo surged upward, pulling Thorin's mouth to his for a maddening, crazed kiss. Thorin responded just as frantically, wordlessly pouring months of despair, longing, and love onto Bilbo's tongue. Without separating, they managed to close the door, remove Thorin's fur, and seat Bilbo on his dining room table with his legs wrapped around the standing dwarf. When they finally parted for a breath, Thorin leaned his forehead to Bilbo's and grinned.

"Not too late, then?" he asked cheekily.  
"Shut up," Bilbo replied, kissing him again. 

Bilbo pulled at Thorin's outer garments. "You're still wet. You need to get out of these things before you freeze to death."  
Thorin leaned in to nip at Bilbo's earlobe. "My, so quick to get me naked," he teased.  
"Quiet, you," Bilbo sassed, smiling.

Still seated on the table, he helped Thorin get off his leathers to the dry-ish layer underneath. Bilbo reached up to help fluff some water out of Thorin's hair when something caught Thorin's eye he had not seen at the door. Wrapped thrice around Bilbo's wrist was one of Thorin's own braids, bead intact, fastened with a silver clasp. He reverently lifted Bilbo's wrist higher between them.

"What is this?" Thorin asked.  
"What you sent me...what it meant...Oh, Thorin! I did not know if you were alive or gone from this world. The rest is at my bedside, just like I said, but I needed to have some of you near me always. I hope you aren't offended. It was done with the furthest thing from disrespect you could imagine," said Bilbo.

Thorin looked at Bilbo for a moment in awe before seizing his head with both hands and desperately claiming his lips.

Bilbo surrendered himself to Thorin's mouth, exhilaration coursing through him. Thorin had the luxury of knowing Bilbo to be alive this whole time. Bilbo did not. He had only too long to think of everything that would be missed if Thorin had passed. With Thorin alive and solid in his arms, Bilbo felt as though he had been granted some manner of spiritual pardon. With this second chance, it no longer mattered that Thorin was a king or that Bilbo was a hobbit. Bilbo never wanted to feel such regret again in his life and it made him bold. Bilbo pulled back only enough for his lips to be free to speak.

“Marry me,” Bilbo said.

"What?" Thorin said, leaning back to look at Bilbo, the hobbit's face still in his hands. 

Some of Bilbo's bravery left him when his eyes met Thorin's. The king's eyes were merry but his open-mouthed grin read more of puzzlement than joy. 

Bilbo wet his lips, took a deep breath, and repeated himself. "Marry me."  
A quick huff of a laugh left Thorin's parted lips. "You're drunk!"

Bilbo realized Thorin's tongue had explored his thoroughly enough to taste the alcohol from his toddy. He put his hands on his hips indignantly.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I'll have you know that it was only a splash or two in my tea, most of which is still in my cup!" 

The two of them looked at each other before a giggle broke Bilbo's stern expression. Thorin sputtered one himself, and soon they were laughing outright. Bilbo put his arms around Thorin's neck and played with the hair at his nape. 

"After all this time, I would have thought it would have grown more," Bilbo said softly.  
Thorin's shoulder rose in a small shrug. "I suppose hobbit hair must grow faster than mine."  
"I happen to think you're still incredibly handsome."  
Thorin slipped his hands around Bilbo's waist and pressed in closer to him. 

Bilbo did not wish to make Thorin uncomfortable, but once he had summoned the courage to speak his true feelings, he was unwilling to let the matter drop. 

"I assure you I am not drunk and I know my heart," Bilbo said. "Now that I know you still draw breath, I want to be with you. Perhaps you are not permitted to marry a hobbit as a king of dwarves, but I do not wish to leave your side. We don't have to call it a marriage-"  
"Bilbo," Thorin said gently, placing a finger over his lips to quiet him. "This is where I tell _you_ to hush."

Thorin gave him a soft kiss. Bilbo's heart sank a little even as Thorin's lips touched his. 

"Do you think I would be foolish enough to let you get away twice?" Thorin asked, rubbing his nose against Bilbo's. "I came halfway across Middle Earth and nearly drowned in a downpour solely to find out if you still felt love for me. I thought I would have to move sky and earth to have so much as a thin hope of you wedding me and here you are, surprising me to my bones yet again."

Bilbo let Thorin steal another kiss as his disappointment morphed into confused joy. Did Thorin just say what Bilbo thought he said?

"Oh, my burglar," Thorin whispered against his lips. "I anxiously look forward to being your husband."

Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut and kissed Thorin back with renewed purpose. Relief and delight flooded his chest. This time, he didn't bother trying to stop the tears from escaping, for they were anything but bitter. 

"I'm going to spend the rest of my life making up the wrongs I committed against you," Thorin promised, impassioned.  
"Just spend it loving me and it will suit me quite fine."  
Thorin clutched Bilbo close. "I have loved you for so long."  
Bilbo hooked his chin over Thorin's shoulder and embraced him tighter, grinning widely. "I have loved you, too."

Bilbo led Thorin to the bedroom, helping him shed the rest of his clothes and removing his own. Thorin tenderly placed Bilbo's well-worn letter on the night table. The cold rain blew insistently against the windowpane as the lovers fell into bed, eagerly consuming each other. 

They had never felt more warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, there goes my marriage fetish again. At least they weren't taking any baths :D


End file.
